Reflection

It's been a week since Mother's Day and I think it's high time I wrote something. I've been thinking about what I would say, since it seems like I always write about being a mom -- but really, that's my one defining trait, so it makes sense that I'd write about it a lot. I certainly think about it a lot. Now, a week later, I have a few things to say about motherhood. Settle in. This post might not be all that funny, but there's always a chance.

My children all gave me wonderful, thoughtful gifts . . . their father took them shopping on the Wednesday before Mother's Day so they'd be sure to have presents for me. I found that very, very sweet and am extremely grateful that Rich would do that for us. That's all I'm going to say about that, because anything else and it's "Hello, Waterworks."

Rachel got me a cover for my iPhone so it wouldn't get scratched. Abby picked a hilarious card that made me laugh right out loud. Zach got the new Stephenie Meyer book -- and then read it before I did -- and the soundtrack to Enchanted. Spen made me a darling (I hate that word, but it really was darling) book at preschool. They all put a lot of thought into the gifts; they'd heard me mention each one and filed it away in their brains for the future. I think I love that part the most, because it means so much more when you remember something that somebody wants, without being told. I love that about my kids.

On Wednesday morning I got a phone call from my mom telling me that a good friend of mine lost her ten-year-old son in a very tragic accident overnight. As a mom, you can't help but hurt when you hear that kind of news. You know that camera trick in the movies, when everything gets really, really small, except for the one thing in the middle, and that's all you see? That's what that phone call did for me. I fret, worry, cry and complain about tons of things that are so completely ridiculous and inconsequential. Hug your kids tonight and kiss them twice, even if you have to sneak in after they're asleep. Also, call your mother. She loves you.

Being a mom is a tricky business and I'm pretty sure I'm doing it wrong most of the time. I read something today that posed the question: "Has anything happened in your life that changed it all?" There are lots of little things that probably have turned my course in ways that I may never know or understand, but without any reservation at all, the single most significant thing I have ever done and will ever do in this life is be a mother. It sounds kind of trite, unless you are a mom, and then you totally get it. As I sit around my table with my four children around me, Zach reading this over my shoulder, the girls playing Hangman and Spen trying to read the Sunday Funnies, there isn't any place I'd rather be, with any other people. I love the sound of their voices, the shape of their mouths, the thoughts in their heads, and the amazing way they look at me.

I'm grateful for nights like tonight. My house isn't very clean, my laundry isn't put away, I'm not ready for the week to start and I think we're out of milk . . . but we're all home and there's so much love here that it hurts.